


Hit Me

by Prettyburgerprincess



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, First Time Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shame, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 21:47:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15010121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettyburgerprincess/pseuds/Prettyburgerprincess
Summary: Hayley just needs him to hurt her, because he's the one she trusts the most.





	Hit Me

Hayley hesitated for only a moment outside his bedroom door, heart pounding in her throat. No one was home except the two of them - and those private moments were so far and few between. It felt wrong, even though they'd had this talk at length; he was no stranger to kinks and hadn't batted an eye at hers.

But still.

She pushed down the handle and swung it like she was scared that the pause might disturb her brief bravery if she didn't follow through with her plan quickly. Even though no one was home, she locked the door, seeking him out with her eyes.

He was standing, head tilted. Dressed in a beautiful slate grey, three piece suit, the tie a soft blue. He smiled to see her, but it faded when he got a good look in on her face. What it betrayed, she would never know, but he had a knack for reading her like a book. 

"Hayley," he said.

"I need you to spank me," she said in greeting.

His brow twitched. It was about as much surprise as she had expected.

"Why?"

"Because I need it."

"What did you do to earn it?" he corrected himself.

She swallowed.

"I didn't do anything to earn anything," she said quickly. "I just can't get it out of my head. You said we could-... I just want to. I can't get the thought of _you_ \- I want _you_ to do it. I don't want anyone else to hear. And no one else is home. So let's get it over with."

"Hayley, when you spoke to me of the things you'd like to try your hand at," he said slowly. "It seemed to me you wanted more than just the act for a quick interlude. I'd feel more comfortable if you weren't in such a rush."

"I'm not rushing," she protested. "I'm just very conscious that these walls usually have ears. I don't need Klaus in on my business. I have a chance now and I want to try it."

"Your embarrassment," he said. "I'm not sure it's healthy."

"Don't," she warned him. "Don't psychoanalyse me. I don't need that from you. I trust you, and I just need you to hit me."

He considered it for a moment, then moved to the bed, taking a seat and unbuttoning his jacket to slide it off and throw it to hang neatly over the back of a chair. He flicked his eyes toward his lap and she crossed the room to take pause by his side, watching his quick sleeve roll up to the crease of his elbows. His vest was similarly discarded over the back of a chair, leaving him in the soft blue tie and pristine white shirt.

"Safeword?" he prompted.

"Ice cream."

It was almost too easy, the way he readied the platform for her body to lay on, spreading his legs to give her more room. He was calm and entirely unphased, which somehow stoked her embarrassment of the entire situation.

"Do you want me just to spank you?" he wondered.

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't done anything wrong," he explained. "This isn't entirely a punishment."

"I just-..." she blinked. "I-... I wanna get off. But I want you to... I want to try it."

"I can do that. Come here."

She cleared her throat, and stepped to his side, bending from the hip to lay across his thighs. She shifted until her hips were supported, leaving only toes on the ground. Her hands wrapped around his calf and she bowed her head, willing, but not necessarily ready.

"How many?" he asked, rubbing the small of her back.

"I don't know," she muttered. "Just... hit me."

He moved the hand down to rub her tailbone, then one cheek, two. His fingers effortlessly flipped up her skirt and she felt a hot streak flash through her belly at the soft sigh he gave upon finding her cute lace panties. She shifted across his legs and tightened her hands on his calf as he trailed along the edges of the leg holes, stroking the lace with reverent fingertips.

"Gorgeous," he said, sliding his fingers under the band, giving it a little pull to let it snap harmlessly against her bare skin. 

She lifted her ass at him, but he didn't hurry up with the whole spanking part of her spanking. Her breathing wasn't hard, but it struggled in her lungs, the way she was bent and where her support was.

"Can you just-?" she exhaled, and reached up to swipe her hair away from her face. "Start?"

"The anticipation is half the fun," he mused, continuing to rub the lace over her ass. "These are very pretty, Hayley."

She swallowed hard.

"They're..." she said uneasily, and tried to make her hair stay tucked behind her ears. It wouldn't, not with the heavy hang of her head. "They're the most... girly ones I own."

"I'll have to invest in a few more." He slid his fingers down and rubbed over her lips, causing her to jerk in surprise. "Do you think they helped you find this particular mood?"

"I don't know," she said, and adjusted her weight across the spread of his thighs, so that she wasn't crushing one whole boob. He lifted her by the chest and she felt her lungs compress as he put his knee under her breasts, which left them hanging loose. 

"Better?"

She shrugged.

There was a pause.

"You're nervous," he accused softly.

"No, I'm impatient," she retorted. 

"You stop talking when you're nervous," he pointed out. "What do you want me to do, Hayley, if you don't talk to me? How will I gauge what you want? What you need?"

She shrugged.

"What was that?" His voice went from cool and patient to whipcrack fast and she hadn't expected it. 

Her heart, which had already been pounding, stuttered in her chest. She put her hands back down around his calf and took in a deep, fortifying breath.

"Spank me, please." she muttered into the ground.

"Please, what?" he said, rubbing her ass, his voice tempered once more.

She burned. It was so embarrassing. She had told him the kink, she had told him the fantasy. He had tried to get her to talk about absentee parenting and how there was nothing wrong with her for the taboo desire, but she still didn't want to give on the whys or the hows. Even uttering the word tasted like forbidden fruit to her. Even thinking about him ready to spank her, looking at her presented ass, it was making her head swirl.

"Just..." she breathed out. Wiggled her hips in lieu of the spoken word.

He grabbed a handful of ass and it hurt, but not bad. Not like she wanted it to.

"Ask me properly," he demanded softly. His free hand settled across her lower back and he applied the smallest amount of pressure to straighten her body so that she was supported by his thigh and not her toes on the floor.

"Please spank me," she burned. God she was gross. It didn't even feel right to say. "Daddy, please."

The first slap was more noise than pain. The second on third fell in quick succession on the opposite cheek.

Her mouth was open, but no sound came out.

"Good girl," he murmured, and she felt a swell in her chest, a rush of inexplicable emotions. Pride was the one she identified, just behind the overwhelming shame and the touch of fear. "Thank you for asking me."

The next four smacks landed on the same cheek, in the same place, and the heat in his hand brought out the heat in her ass. She went up onto her toes for the fifth one, and he smoothed his hand over the abused flesh, giving her a moment to settle.

"Is it too hard?"

She shrugged.

The hand on her back went to her head, grabbed a fistful of hair, and brought her up; barely on the balls of her feet, hands scrambling to push on his leg. He pressed a simple kiss to the hinge of her jaw.

"I said," he murmured. "Is it too hard, Hayley?"

"No," she heard the strain on her voice from the way her throat was bared to him. Her eyes rolled shut. The pain in her scalp was surface level - the words, that was what was causing her drama. The inside, gooey stuff. She wanted him to tell her she was a good girl again. Ick.

"If you're not enjoying yourself," he informed her gently, pressing a kiss on her throat. "Then we can stop."

"I want this," she agreed hastily.

He kept her up by the hair and delivered several quick, incrimently harder smacks that made her hands scrunch the expensive suit over his leg. She screwed her eyes shut and rocked up onto her toes for the last one, feeling his soft kiss against her face.

"You're my good girl," he told her warmly.

She grit her teeth. It was complex, the nature of her desires. The Daddy thing, that was something that always bubbled up in her throat when a guy was being a bit rough with her, but they never hit her the right way, and she'd never said it out loud. She might've finally talked about it with Elijah, but indulging with him was different to fantasizing.

He let go of her hair and she went back over his lap and held on to his leg, head down, ass up. He rubbed his hand over her entire ass and then hit her four, five, six, seven times, until a noise spilled out of her throat. It was one of protest, but she hadn't meant to let it slide - the sting of each smack was just shy of actual pain.

"Do you want me to stop?" he wanted to know, putting both hands on her back.

To reply, she reached up and unhitched her underwear, pulling it past the burning skin and down to her knees. Once she replaced her hands around his leg, she felt his finger slide along the cleft of her ass, then deftly stroke the heat between her legs. She clamped her legs shut with a soft gasp at the sensation but all she did was trap his hand there.

There was a pause, and he put his free hand on her back.

"Open your legs," he said, and wiggled his fingers against her. She tried but something about her idiot brain to legs missfired, and she tightened all the way to her knees. "Open your legs for me."

"Hit me harder," she said in a rush, like maybe he wouldn't hear her. "Please, Daddy, hit me harder."  She felt her shoulders seize like hackles while she waited on his verdict.

"Alright, baby," he promised. "I'll hit you harder. Open your legs for Daddy, please."

She barely caught the keen as it built in her throat, actively swallowing against it. Because he was so firm, but so gentle, and it was doing things. She relaxed the tension in her legs to release his hand, and couldn't help but shudder. She was mid-readjusting her grip around his calf when he started to spank her again, and her hands flew back to instinctively protect her flaming backside.

He took her by the wrists and kissed each palm, then crossed them over the small of her back and and held them with his spare hand. He spanked her again - she lost count after twelve much harder ones - and stopped when a breath burst out of her throat, a small: "Ah!"

His fingers trailed down to her sensitive lips, and again, she tried to block him out.

"Open your legs," he murmured. "You told me you wanted to get off."

"I want to get off," she repeated mindlessly. But her legs stayed shut, so tightly her knees were shaking.

"Hayley," he said patiently. "Let me touch you. I want to make you feel good, now."

"I'm trying," she said, and hated - _hated_ \- that her traitorous voice wobbled.

"Open your legs, baby," he said, his voice quiet. He rubbed the back of her leg and it was so confronting that she whimpered. She wrenched one hand free to put it over her mouth and keep it quiet, but barely caught another whimper when he rubbed her leg again.

She was shaking, she realised, when she spread her legs. She was also wet, it the cold air on her kitty was anything to go by.

Elijah wasted no time in stroking through her folds and slipping a finger into her easily. It was good. Too good. She tried to take her other arm back to hide her face but he tightened his grip on her wrist and rubbed his thumb over her clit.

"You're my good girl," he told her, and her hips bucked into his hand. "You're so good for me, baby."

He pumped his fingers, setting a steady pace that made her arch her spine to meet him. She had to unlatch the hand from her mouth to put it down on the floor, try and get a grip on herself. It was just fingers. She had actually had sex with the man. And she'd sat on his face so many times - as well as blown him on the balcony just above Bourbon street!  
So why did this feel different?

More raw?

More vulnerable?

"Please don't stop," she said, breathless, eyes shut tight. "D-Daddy please. Please don't stop."

"I won't," he soothed. He linked their fingers on her back and she groaned, the pleasure in her mounting. "You're such a good girl. So good for me."

"I can be good," she choked.

"I know, baby." He did something with her hand within her that made her cry out hoarsely, rock back against his grip.

The coarse hair on his forearm stuck to the shiny red skin on her ass and she shot forward again, a low groan filling the space between her spinning hair and the floor.

"I'm good," she muttered. "I'm your good girl. You're- Daddy - you -"

He hushed her as she felt it rising in her pelvis, the tightening of her body, the beginnings of pleasure that might've been too much. But she let him stir her up, let him rub right into the nerve of her clit and slide in another finger to fill her up just that little bit more, his every movement sure and knowing.

It was so safe there, in the seat of him, even if her ass was red hot but it only hurt when he brushed it. She had believed he would know how to handle her, and he did. He adored her to his last breath, and she trusted him with this horrible secret kink. And it was so good to finally indulge, and so wrong to have it all out in the open. She was a full grown woman, for Christsake, with a child of her own. What the hell was she doing, calling a thousand year old vampire Daddy and getting spanked?

She sobbed, because it didn't matter what her higher brain functions said - her base brain was all animal, and all her gooey feelings were broiling in her chest, and her nerve endings were on fire.

"Daddy," she told the floor. "I'm gonna come."

"Come, baby," he encouraged her lightly, and within the next three seconds, her hungry kitty was clamping down on his fingers, legs crossing over to trap his hand where it was. She rolled right up onto her toes, and fucked herself back on his fingers how she liked, becoming brainless with the intensity of her pleasure.

But like all good highs, there was a come down.

He waited for her to adjust her legs to slide his hand out, audibally sucking on his fingers.

Hayley didn't want to lift her head and face what she'd just done. The things she'd said. The whole... spanking, part. Why couldn't she just fool around with him? She regretted ever opening her mouth to let him know she'd like to try being in a submissive place.

It was stupid. She was stupid. But fuck, if it was stupid, she didn't want to be smart.

"Can you sit up, Hayley?"

She wasn't sure if he was still playing his role. She didn't think so. She wiggled back and pushed off his leg to ease off his lap and plop onto the floor with a wince. She looked strictly at the material of her panties as she pulled them off - the crotch was wet, so she had been turned on by the pain alone, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of that. She shoved her underwear in her pocket and hugged her knees.

He knelt before her, lifting her face to his.

She squeezed her eyes shut but all that did was burst the line of tears that had been threatening her lashes. His gentle thumb swiped them away, and she sniffed.

"I'm fine," she muttered. "This is stupid."

"It's not," he corrected quietly. "It's just new."

"I don't know why I'm crying." She cracked open an eye. "I'm going to ask you to do it again."

His smile was very soft.

"Come here," he said, and opened his arms to her. She stared at him with no real heat, her other eye blinking open. At her complete lack of reaction, he arched a brow. "I did rather expect you would be a touch more obedient, if I'm going to be honest. Do I have to put you over my knee a little longer?"

She smiled to spite her bad mood.

"It's fine," she said for her weak protest. "I don't need to be coddled. I'm okay."

"I made you cry," he pointed out. "I'm not."

"Oh." Well. That was different. She rolled onto her knees and crashed into his chest, tucking her cheek to his shoulder and winding her arms around his body. She squeezed him, and her returned it, pressing a kiss to her brow. "I... I'm really okay, though. I'm just confused."

"What about?"

She knew the answer was another series of questions: 'why do I get off so quickly when I call you Daddy?', 'why does the pain kinda do it for me?', 'why do I want to do it again, right now, but I still don't feel ready for it?'

"I don't know." She shrugged. "There's some... feelings, I don't know what to do with."

"Will you tell me when you figure it out?" He took one of her hands, brought it up to his mouth to kiss.

"Probably," she said softly, and curled her fingers into his cheek, steering his face down to steal a kiss of her own. He suckled at her lip, paying each one similar attention, and hummed when her hand trailed down his chest to rest against the hard length in his trousers. "Can I give you a hand with that?"

He cocked a brow.

"Hayley, if you merely bent over the bed and showed me the red of your ass," he murmured, stroking her face. "And the gorgeous slick of your pleasure marking you as satisfied, I wouldn't last the minute."

She flushed, and hid under his chin.

"Do you want to fuck me?" she whispered, and caught his lobe in her teeth.

"Do you want to be fucked?" he murmured, and tightened his arms around her.

Like she was ever gonna say no to that.


End file.
